Siúil A Rún
by Sanqhian
Summary: [Their Love Her Murder sequel] Someone wants Danny miserable and Flack out of the picture. [slash]
1. Blink

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:**SeriousSlash.Strong Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

**

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Chapter One: Blink **

I lean forward, my arms spread. The air rushes up at me. The building impressive in its height. I feel like a bird. My wings spread to catch the best the wind has for me. I close my eyes. Waiting. Falling. Letting the pain seep from my body. Saying goodbye to the sadness. Wishing all the luck and happiness to everyone I leave behind. Tomorrow is another day. A day to start a new.

I lean a little farther forward. I feel my balance shifting. A little more and I'll be gone, soaring to like the doomed Icarus. Arms wrap around my waist. The force almost sending me over but pulling me back at the same time. I yell out in anger. Flack pulls me into him. Taking me from the promise of freedom the wind holds for me. I struggle to get away from him. He pulls me by the hand and we stand side-by-side on the ledge.

"If you go, I go with," he says. He steps out over the ledge, drawing me along with him.

I sit up in bed, drenched in sweat. The last of the dream melts away into the night, leaving me with a chill. With shaking hands I reach for the white bottle on the night stand. I pop the cap and pour a pill into my hand. I take it. A glass of water sits beside the bottle. I pick it up and start drinking. A light in the living room flips on. I notice it only out of the corner of my eye.

"Danny, you okay?"

Flack's voice is unexpected. He scares me, causing me to inhale while I'm drinking. I set the glass down before the coughing starts to take over my body. It hurts. Flack sits beside me on the bed and begins to rub my back, easing the problem away. Slowly I regain my composure. Flack keeps rubbing my back.

"Bad dream?" He asks softly.

I nod.

"Still wish you would talk to me, Danny-boy," he mutters hurtfully.

I shift my body so that I'm facing the window, not him.

"Fine, I'm sorry that I screwed up your master plan, Daniel. I love you and don't even want to think of being without you. However, if you so desire to throw yourself off the top of your own apartment building, I'll take you right back up there."

"No you wouldn't," I mumble ever so softly.

"Excuse me? Did you say something?"

I turn to give him a quick look. "Let me be, Don. Why couldn't you just let me go?"

Something inside him snaps. The next thing I know I'm laying on my back with Flack straddling me, his hands holding my shoulders to the bed. Anger mixes with despair and his eyes are dull.

"Wake up, Danny," he says forcefully. "What the hell is wrong with you? I know you miss Aiden but is she worth killing yourself for? Would jumping off the roof really make you feel better? Would it?"

"Get off me."

"No, not until you answer my questions." His anger has weakened a little.

"Do you want me to break down and cry like a big baby, telling you how sorry that I am? Well I got news for you, Donald Flack; it's not going to happen. Now get off of me."

"No," he shakes his head. The tears finally break free of his eyes. He gives them no notice.

A stab of pain begins to grow in my chest. I've never seen Flack so vulnerable. So broken and emotional. Something inside me weakens. It gives way to the growing need inside. He loves me. He pulled me from the ledge into his waiting arms. All in one breath he told me how he found my note earlier than I had wished. It slipped from his wallet when he reached to show something to a colleague. The note wasn't cryptic to him. He understood right away what was being said. He just didn't want to believe it. Still, he came. He came for me and now I'm being ever so mean to him.

The anger leaves me on swift wings. I reach out to pull him closer to me. Hopefully my kiss tells him that I want him more now than I ever had before. His want isn't hidden from me. The fire has been stoked and there's no putting it out. Emotions have taken over. Death touched a little too close. Now it's time to return ourselves to life and the feelings that keep us bound to earth.

Unlike the first two times Flack doesn't stop to tell me that I can still back at. Good, I don't want to hear it. I've been down this road we're taking before. I traveled it with him and I'm willing to go along for the ride again. My hands work at the buttons of his shirt. The feel of him so close set a fire blazing inside me. I have his shirt undone and I'm working on his pants when someone knocks at the door. My gaze shifts to the glowing red lights of the alarm clock. It's after ten. Kind of late to be making a call. The knocking gets more persistent.

Flack moves from the bed. "I'm going to answer that or they'll never go away." He begins buttoning his shirt back up.

_All that hard work…If he loved you enough, he wouldn't get up to answer the door._

I roll over on my side. The mood is gone. I only feel chilled and alone; expect for my friend, darkness. My eyes fall on the label of the medication. A thought slowly forms in my mind. Flack is talking softly to someone at my door. A feeling begins to grow inside.

_Pick up the bottle, Danny, come on, you know you want to. Do it._

With a shaking hand I pick it up, open the small draw in the table, and close it away inside. Now that the temptation is gone the thought floats away. I close my eyes. Flack returns to the bedroom. He climbs into the bed behind me. The fire inside receives a slight stoke as he drapes his arm over my side and rests his hand on my bare chest. He feels so warm.

"You okay?"

"Fine," I lie.

"That was Mac" He pauses, waiting for me to say something. When I don't he continues on. "He was just wondering if you were okay. I think he was a little surprised to see me here. I take it he doesn't know about us?"

"No," I whisper. I'm half asleep.

"We could tell him."

I'm not sure my reply comes out the way it should. My body is losing the fight to stay awake. The Sandman draws me farther and farther into his domain. Willingly, I give. Flack senses that I'm swiftly falling asleep. He moves his arm a little. I reach out and grab him, pulling him back.

"Stay."

"Always." He settles in behind me, pulling me closer. "Always."


	2. A Man A Mile

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

**

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Chapter Two: A Man a Mile**

I step out of the shower. Flack is standing by the door. Seeing him gives me a start. He smiles a smile that twinkles in his eyes.

"A little privacy?" I ask.

"Why? I've seen it all before." I roll my eyes and throw a towel at him. He chuckles. "I think you need this more than I do."

I push him out the door, closing it behind him. "What do you want?"

"Was wondering if you planned to go into work today."

"Yes," I reply. "Mac warned me about losing my job. I need to go." I make sure to take my time drying off and getting clothed. It'll drive Flack crazy. I can hear him pacing back and forth by the bathroom door. Probably checking his watch every few minutes. Finally, I open the door.

"Come on, or you'll be late."

His offer to carpool is fine with me. My mind isn't up-to-par. I don't believe I could handle driving right now. All the crazy people that live in New York, I'd most likely get myself killed.

_Would that be so bad? You tried to fly…don't forget…_

I block out the sounds of the radio as we make our way to the lab. My head leans against the cool glass of the window. Flack mumbles something about some person behind the wheel of another car. I dread going to work. There haven't been any new developments in the murder of Aiden. And every day that passes makes the chances of an ending less and less.

Flack drops me off. He gives me a worrying look as I climb out of the car. I've been silent and off in my own world for a some time now. Maybe coming to work wasn't a good idea. Still, I find myself walking through the doors, pass the reception area, and into the lab itself.

"Danny, have you seen Stella?" Hawkes asks coming up beside me.

I eye the former coroner. Sheldon Hawkes, a man of much knowledge, stands two inches shorter than me. We are almost eye level. It's kind of nice. Flack is taller than me by five inches and looking up isn't always fun. At the mention of Stella my mind flashes back to the unkind things she said that day. The threat the she threw my way.

I shake my head, trying to hide my unhappiness and disgust. "Nope, haven't seen anyone but you. I just got here."

"Oh, well, if you see her tell her that I'm in the garage going over the car in our case, okay?"

I nod, knowing that it'll be a lie. I don't want to talk to Stella. Never again. Hard as that will be, though, since we work together. At least she's paired with Hawkes for a crime, not me. Last time I went out in the field, Aiden died. I'm content processing evidence for a bit longer. Hawkes takes off to look over his own evidence. I wearily eye the halls looking for Stella. More like looking out for Stella. Instead I come across Lindsay next. She holds a cup of steaming coffee in her hand.

"Morning, Danny," she chirps happily.

"Morning," I echo.

"Busy day ahead for you. I hear that night shift is back-logged and they've sent evidence your way." She sips the coffee.

"Is that so? I'll make sure to work on our stuff first." That makes her smile. "Hey, I was wondering, you want to come over tonight? Maybe have dinner?"

Her smile lights up the hall. "Sure, that sounds great. What time?"

"How about around seven? Is that okay for you?"

"It's a date. I'll see you then. As for now, I have a crime scene to get to. A breaking and entering. Bye, Danny," she waves.

"Bye," I call after her.

I smile inside. I've been telling myself to be nicer to Lindsay. Now I finally have. Flack hopefully won't be upset by having her over tonight. It is at my apartment after all. If he doesn't like it, he can always leave. That thought puts a quick damper on my mood. I want Flack and Lindsay to both be at my place tonight. I feel the deep desire to be surrounded by people that I like. I would invite Mac, but he'd turn me down. He never does anything after work with any one of us. Maybe I'll follow him one of these nights to see just what it is that he does.

The lab is full of evidence bags and even a few boxes. I groan at all the extra work. True to my word, I start on the day shift evidence. I've just about finished processing a shirt full of blood when the door opens. I look up with a happy greeting for whoever is there. It's Stella. The happiness fades away.

"So, Flack not enough for you? Do you think he'll be happy to know you have a date with Lindsay? An actual girl? Do you even like girls, Daniel?" Every word feels like a little knife cutting through my skin. Why does Stella hate me so much all of a sudden?

"Hawkes is looking for you," I state before returning my attention to my evidence. Best to give her the cold shoulder. Maybe she'll leave me alone. My luck is always bad.

"You going to ignore me?" She smiles a positively evil smile. "I have a meeting with the chief of police at two, today. Aren't you the least bit curious at to what we'll be discussing?"

"No," I say offhandedly. "It has nothing to do with me." I place a slide under the microscope to analyze it.

"Oh, but it has everything to do with you. You and a certain detective." She storms out before I can reply. Her words leave my feeling cold from head to toe. Flack is still on probation. There's no telling how his boss will take the news that his prize detective is sleeping with me. There has to be something I can do.

_Flack rhymes with…? _

That's it, a way to ruin Stella's plan. I pluck my cell phone from my pocket after sending a foreign substance through testing. I hit speed-dial and listen to the ringing on the other end. Flack picks up on the third ring.

"What can I do for you, Danny?"

Gotta love that caller-ID. "I need you to come over here right now. Can you manage that or will it get you in trouble?"

"Depends, what do you need me for?"

I can hear the touch of coyness in his voice and choose to ignore it. "Do you like your job and want to keep it?"

"Yes," he replies all serious now.

"Than get over here right now." I hang-up, not giving him a chance to argue. This needs to be done.

I leave all the evidence as it is. No time to bother with small matters. The reception area is rather empty, as usual. All the family members of any recently deceased will be in talking with someone. The receptionist looks a little puzzled as I pace the small area. She's not used to us CSI's spending an excessive amount of time in the reception area. Too easy for the press to get a hold of us for interviews.

Flack shows up in a record five minutes. I grab him by the wrist, getting a curious look from the receptionist. I ignore her and drag Flack toward Mac's office.

"Hold up, Danny, what is going on?" He asks pulling his wrist from my grip.

"We're stopping a problem before we both lose our jobs. Just come with me."

Mac is on the phone when we enter his office. He lets us know that he'll be just a minute longer and finishes the call. Flack is looking at me, trying to read the thoughts in my head. I feel like throwing up and passing out, preferably in that order. The thought of telling Mac what's on my mind makes me extremely uneasy. It has to be done, though. It's the only way I can see to ruin Stella's plan, however far it goes.

Mac places the phone in its cradle. "Something I can do for you Messer, Flack?"

Flack shrugs. "He dragged me here."

My mouth is feeling rather dry for some reason. I choose to ignore it. "There's something that needs to be discussed. It's a somewhat touchy subject."

Realization dawns on Flack and his eyes open wide. "Danny-"

"Flack, just go with me on this." He shuts up and I turn back to Mac. It's now or never. How will he take it?


	3. Officer Blue

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Author Note:** Please check my profile for a note on this story.

**Disclaimer:** Slash. _Violence_. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

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Chapter Three: Officer Blue **

Flack grabs me roughly by the arm and pulls me back toward the door. "Are you out of your mind, Danny?" He whispers harshly at me.

"You're the one who brought up the question of him knowing the other night. I told you that I'm trying to save your job," I reply.

"My job is just fine. I don't think what's going on between us needs to be aired out right now. Can't it wait?" Fear is a fighting its way into his beautiful blue eyes causing them to cloud.

I shake my head, placing my hands on his shoulders. "Please, Flack, trust me on this. It needs to be done."

He opens his mouth to say something but Mac beats him to the punch. "Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Anger gives his voice a bit more edge. As thought realizing for the first time that he's in the room both Flack and I turn to look at him. "Now."

I step away from Flack and the door. I can feel his eyes on my back. If I had all the power in the world I wouldn't hurt him but this has to be done. "There's something that you need to know, Mac," I begin. It's now or never. "Flack and I are in relationship together." There it's finally out in the open.

Mac glances behind me to where Flack is standing. "Is this true?" He voice doesn't give way the feelings inside. This puts me a little on edge. Should I have kept my mouth shut?

Flack doesn't answer him right away. I turn to see him staring at his shoes. He's never been bashful before. Desperation slowly leaks into every fiber of my body. He needs to say something or Mac will think I'm nuts. Panic begins to replace the desperation when Flack steps up beside me and takes my hand.

"Yes, it's true," he finally declares. Relief washes over me. "However, I don't see why Danny is so urgent to tell you." The displeasure shimmers in his eyes. I'll probably hear all about it later tonight, if he stays.

"Because of Stella," I utter. "She keeps threatening to tell your chief and get you fired." There's no chance of me hiding the worry in my voice. Flack's disapproval melts into forgiveness than dissolves into concern.

Mac is perched on the edge of his desk, listening to us. "So you came running to me? What makes you think telling me has a better outcome?"

The dread inside causes me to go pale a few shades. "Mac?" Flack lets go of my hand and takes a step back. What's with him?

"There's no need to completely freak out, Danny." I relax at the sound of my nickname. He's not calling me Daniel or Messer; I can't be in too much trouble. Not yet anyway. "However, I have my reasons for being concerned. You have to understand, a detective sleeping with a CSI is a slight problem-"

"Is it because we're both guys?" I enquire.

Mac smiles a wee smile. "Though I may not have a problem with that, you can be assured that others will. That's not where the problem lies. It's the simple fact that one of you analyzes crime scenes and evidence while the other one questions criminals and locks them up. Danny," he gestures with his hand in my direction. "People may think that Flack is giving you certain information and thus leading you to taint the evidence. Others may think that Flack is using you to climb his way up in ranking. As you can tell, the problems that can arise from you relationship can be numerous and troublesome," he finishes.

Flack takes my wrist in his hand rather roughly. "We'll take that into consideration. Sorry for bothering you, Mac. If you don't mind I need to talk with Danny."

I swear that Mac's eyes twinkle in amusement. At least he isn't against our relationship, as far as are being guys. Flack drags me from the office, down the hallway, and into the locker room. The silence of the steel closets is drowned out by the beating of my heart. I remember the look in Flack's eyes when I actually told Mac about us. Is it payment time?

He turns his back on me, pacing. Every once and a while he looks up at me. The silence is filled with a ringing in my ears. For the first time since the roof my head is bothering me. Silently I wish for the problem to dissipate. Instead of obeying me it grows stronger. Flack has finally stopped pacing. He's studying me, a curious gleam in his eyes. My heart picks up the pace, matching the throb in my head.

"Since you don't seem to mind just telling people about us, you won't mind me doing this." He takes my chin gently into his hand and kisses me. My heart stops beating as the pleasure of his lips on mine courses through my body. The pain in my head vanishes. The world surrounding us blurs. All I sense is him. He pulls away before I want him to.

"Next time, talk to me before telling someone how we feel," he whispers. I can only nod in agreement.

He turns on his heel and leaves me standing alone in the hall of steel. I promptly fall onto the old wooden bench. My head in my hands, I hear someone open the door. Looking up I see Lindsay. She graces me with one of her lovely smiles. A smile that is not even a match compared to the fire of Flack's smile.

"I just Flack leaving, was he here to see you?" How does she always manage to sound happy with a job like hers?

I nod.

"Oh, you two making out in the locker room?" The teasing in her voice is light.

I feel myself blush deeply.

She giggles. "You two make a cute couple. I'm kind of jealous though."

"Why?"

"Well," she sits beside me. "Both you and Flack are handsome guys. I could have easily fallen for either one of you. Figures that you would fall for each other." The entire time she says this the light never leaves her face. She truly is a happy person. How could I have been mean to her for so long?

"Don't give up, Lindsay," I mutter with sorrow in my voice.

She frowns, the light finally gone. "What's wrong?"

"I believe I've upset Flack. I went ahead and told Mac about us without talking to Flack first. He looked positively pissed."

She places a hand on my shoulder. "That does seem like a bad move. Don't let it get to you. Flack has a right to be mad but he'll come around. Just give him time to cool off. Things will be fine."

"I hope that you're right." I chuckle slightly. "He was my ride to work today. If he's mad at me I don't know if he'll pick me up. Or if he'll even show at my apartment."

Surprising me, Lindsay gives me a hug. "Things will be fine. He'll be here to get you and you'll have a great evening together. We can do dinner another night."

Dinner with Lindsay, oh no. I look at her. "I forgot about our dinner plans. Lindsay, I am so sorry."

"Hush, it's not a problem. I don't think we should bother with it tonight. You smooth things over with Flack, okay? Promise me you will?"

"Okay, I promise."

* * *

I don't wait for Flack at the end of my shift. I'm too afraid that he won't come to pick me up. I bum a ride from Hawkes. When he asks me how I get to work I tell him that I took a cab. He doesn't question any further. Knowing him he's already figured out that it's a lie. He leaves me at my building, wishing me a good night. Ha, a good night. With a heavy heart and a painful head I make my way to my apartment. By the time I reach the familiar brown slab my head is killing me. All I can think about is the bottle of pain medication in the drawer of my bedside table. 

_Open up, Danny, let the darkness in. Come on, let it in. The darkness always takes care of you. It wraps you in comforting arms and cradles you until the pain is gone. Just let it in..._

I hear the lock give under the turn of the key. What I don't hear is the person walking up behind me. I don't hear them breathing. Or the rustle of their clothing. All I hear is the all too familiar snap of a gun being cocked to fire. Then I feel the biting metal on the back of my neck.

"Open the door. Don't make a fuss or I'll blow your brains out," my surprise captor whispers in my ear.

"Okay," I croak out.

He follows me into my dark empty apartment. Without moving the gun from my neck he closes the door. Flicking on the light chases away the dark but not my captor. I can feel him relax when he sees that we're alone. With a shove of the gun against my neck he urges me farther in.

"Don't move, unless you think you'd be better abstract art instead of human being," he warns. For a few fleeting seconds the gun is removed from my flesh. I hear the click of the lock. Locking out Flack. Keeping the world at bay.

_No one can hear you scream…_

The kiss of the gun barrel returns to my neck. He pushes it against me. "Walk to your bedroom. Don't turn around or you'll be looking at six feet of dirt."

I walk toward my room, keeping calm on the outside while inside I'm fighting off utter chaos. The dread feels like dead weight in my stomach. The pain in my head is forgotten. There are more important things to worry about. I stop a few feet into my room as he commands me to. The light laughs at me as it takes over the darkness. My captor shoves me forcefully. Not expecting it I stumble and trip. On the way down I whack my hand against the wooden footboard of my bed. There's no way to surpress the cry of pain that comes.

My captor laughs. "You think that hurt, just wait until I'm finished with you. You'll wish that your mother had never had you."

I close my eyes as the tears come. He grabs me off the floor and throws me on the bed. Laughing to himself he crosses the room to turn the lights off again. My eyes open, I see the evil insanity revealed in his face by way of the moonlight.

_Wonder what Heaven is like…_


	4. Blood, Sweat and Tears

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Medium Slash. Explicit Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

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Chapter Four: Blood, Sweat, and Tears**

I've been awake for hours, pretending to sleep out of fear. The place is silent except for the frantic beating of my heart. I push myself from the bed. My body screams in protest and pain. It doesn't want to be moved. It wants to lie on the bed and let the world take its pain away. With heavy steps I make my way to my bathroom. The short distance has never seemed so long in all my life. I climb into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it will go. Before one drop can even touch my skin I'm turning the water off. The tears I've grown so used to stain my face.

I check the glaring red of my alarm clock. It's a little after midnight. Too late in the night for anyone to be up. Too early in the morning for a wake up call. Like a drugged patient I pull my clothes on. The same outfit I wore to work. Was that really only yesterday? It feels like ages have gone by.

The door man is half asleep when I walk into the lobby. One look at me and his sleep is forgotten. I ignore him. Best to not say anything. So I'm up late. It's not like people don't come and go at all hours of the day. The drive to Flack's place is more like a dream than actual life. One minute I'm climbing into my car, the next I'm climbing the stairs to his apartment. My feet carry me to the familiar brown door. Will he answer when I knock? It's late. I shouldn't rouse him from his sleep. I can always go home. Home to the silence and the memories.

I knock on the door. No, I bang on the door. I want to make sure I get his attention. I have to wake him. A few seconds pass. It doesn't look like he'll answer. This time I knock softly, all my energy disappearing into anguish and depression. Soft footfalls come from the other side of the door. Locks click as they are undone. Flack swings the door open. All signs of sleep leave his body when his eyes fall on me.

"Danny, what the hell happened to you?" He asks ushering me in. The words catch in my throat. He directs me to the couch. "Here, sit, I'll be right back."

The couch is soft and more comfortable than my bed. Yet sleep is miles away. My head is throbbing. My entire body aches. Even my bones feel tired. Flack returns with a few bandages and some damp towels. He pulls out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide from one of the towels were it had been concealed.

"You want to tell me what happened?" He asks again. With careful hands he cleans the cut above my eye. The sting of the medication is dulled by the aches in the rest of my body.

"I want to shower," I say. Do I really say it or do I just think it?

"Alright, you want help getting to the bathroom?"

I shake my head and climb from the couch. My muscles protest the movement and never let up as I head to the bathroom. I close the door behind me as an after thought. Privacy doesn't matter with Flack. He's seen me naked. My muscles are mad at me. My whole body is unhappy. As payback I find myself feeling nauseous. The feeling quickly disappears as I lean over the toilet and throw up.

Unlike at home I manage to with stand the showering. The water burns my skin, turning it red. The pain is hardly noticeable. I feel like I'm in a fog. Blood colors the water a pinkish red and stings the few serious cuts that I have. An ugly bruise is growing over my ribs. I touch them gingerly. At least two of them are broken. A few minor bruises discolor my skin. Nothing else is broken.

I slide down the wall until I'm sitting. The water continues to run over me. It joins the tears and masks their existence. Flack knocks on the bathroom door. He says something. The water muffles it. A minute of silence. More knocking. Then he opens the door.

"Danny?"

I don't move.

"Danny, are you okay?" Worry fills his voice.

He opens the shower door to find me sitting there, not moving. All the blood has been washed down the drain. He turns the water off, takes my arm, and helps me to my feet. His eyes take in the many cuts and bruises, especially the one over my ribs. He hands me a soft towel and leaves the bathroom. I dry myself off mechanically. The fog hasn't cleared yet. Flack returns with the peroxide. I shake my head.

"At least let me take you to the hospital. You should get your ribs checked out."

I shake my head again. "Sleep, that's all I want. Let me sleep." I put my boxers on. The touch of the cloth on my skin is uncomfortable.

"Danny-"

"I'm tired," I explain as I stumble pass him to his bed. The blankets and pillows welcome me with their comfortable embrace. The sleep that has been hanging around the edges of my subconscious finally closes in. The last thing I hear is Flack saying my name. Then the darkness takes over. Forcing the pain to flee.

* * *

A banging in the distance. I wish the sound to end. To fade away. My wish is granted and the noise stops. Non-too hushed voices take its place. I strain to hear them. Waking up would make them understandable. Waking up would make my head hurt more. I force my eyes to stay closed. I try to forget the voices. The noises. Where is that sleep that held me so fast? Why has it gone away? It's left me in the light with all my pain.

"He's in here," I hear Flack say to the owner of the other voice.

The bedroom door opens. Footfalls. Rustling of clothing. Someone turns the light on. More footfalls. I search my mind, looking for the darkness that kept the pain away. It's long gone and there's no telling when it will return. Heavy weight settles on the bed. I moan as the movement causes my body to scream in pain. All my nerves send shocks to my brain. Instinct tells me to curl up the fetal position. The pain is too great. I'm afraid that moving will cause me to shatter like a pane of glass. I moan again as the bed is jostled.

"I think he's finally waking up," Flack states. The relief he feels fills his voice. I slept for a few hours. There's no need to be worried.

"Good," the other person speaks. I'd know that voice anywhere. It's Mac. Why…

I feel the presence of someone standing in front of me. Their shadow falls over my face, chasing away the blinding light. A hand touches my shoulder. I bite my tongue to keep the scream in that has crawled up my throat. Leave me alone. Please. Let the darkness have me. There's no pain there.

"Danny, come on," Flack urges. He gently shakes me. This time there's no keeping the pain locked inside. The cry of pain must scare Flack because his hand moves from my skin.

"He should be at the hospital," Mac states.

"I know that. I've been afraid to move him. I'm glad that you showed up. Perhaps between the two of us it'll be easier," Flack says.

I can just see Mac shaking his head. "Easier, yes, I can see that. But I believe that we're going to cause him a lot of pain if we move him. All you did was touch him and he screamed. He may have to lay here another day or two, as much as I'm against it."

Frustration hides the concern in Flack's voice. "We have to do something. Leaving him here doesn't sound like a good idea. He has numerous cuts that can get infected, at least two broken ribs, and who knows what else. Something could be really wrong with him. Seriously wrong."

Stop talking about me like I'm not here. I try desperately to yell the words. They don't come. My throat is dry. Despite my sleep my body is drained of energy. I try to roll over onto my back. My ribs are numb from the pain. Flack said they are broken. I can't feel them. I can't feel them and I'm so damn happy about it.

"At least you know he's not dead, Don," Mac says matter-of-factly.

Flack scoffs. "He might as well be."

His indifference angers me. The anger gives me the power to roll onto my back. The cool air hits my bare, bruised chest. I shiver. The light is strong. I drape an arm over my eyes and mumble something. The words are so soft that I can hardly hear them myself. Yet, someone hears me. The light fades. The ceiling light going off. A click is followed by a soft glow. The lamp being turned on. At least it's not as bright.

_Look upon the world, Danny-boy._

For the first time in my life I can officially say that my eyelids hurt. I open my eyes, squinting in the near darkness. Even the lamp is too much. I close my eyes again. A hand brushes against the bruise on my chest. The numbness has departed. My eyes open from the pain. Mac is inspecting my ribs. If I had any energy I'd pop him in the back of the head. Instead I pray that my glare works the same. Hey, I wasn't aware that I could glare. The muscles don't protest so much. That's a good sign. It has to be.

"Daniel, you look like shit," Mac says.

I try to laugh. Okay, so I laugh only in my head. Actually laughing will probably kill me. Flack moves across the bed so that he's standing next to Mac. I feel self-conscience having them stare at me.

"Do you feel any better?" Flack asks. Not trusting myself to speak I shake my head as much as I can. Bad idea. The movement aggravates the headache that pounds on my brain like a sledgehammer. Worry pales Flack's blue eyes. "Shouldn't he feel better? He's been sleeping all day."

All day? Wasn't it only an hour ago that I passed out on Flack's bed? It was, wasn't it?

"He ever get around to telling you what happened?" Mac enquires.

"Nope," he replies. I hate when people talk about me like I'm not hear. My eyes are open, I'm conscious; at least I think I am. "You said you were going to stop by his place before you came here. Find anything of interest there?"

Mac shakes his head. "Everything looked in order. Messer is the only one who knows what happened and he doesn't appear to be talking anytime soon. I'm sorry, Flack."

Why is he apologizing?

Mac mumbles something to Flack. He leaves the room to get whatever it is that Mac wants. He studies me as he sits on the side of the bed. The waves of pain aren't as bad but they do still hurt. Flack returns with a glass of water which he hands to Mac. An extra pillow under my head props me up. The touch of the glass and the water inside itis welcoming. My parched throat is happy. I down half the glass before Mac pulls it away. Five seconds later I realize that something is not right. The coming coughs seize me. Pain be screwed. I force myself to move until I'm leaning on one elbow. The coughing reminds me of an earthquake. My entire body shakes. I cover my mouth and wait until the hell passes by. Then flop back on the bed, my arm lying across the pillows.

"Is that blood on his hand?"

Blood? What blood?

Flack moves in for a closer look. "Yep, that would be blood."

No.

"Damn. Alright, you grab his shoulders. I'll get his feet."


	5. Hush

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Medium Slash. Explicit Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Five: Hush**

"When can he leave?"

The question breaks through my clouded mind. Leave? Leave what?

"As soon as he wakes up. He needs to stay away from strenuous exercise for about week, then come back in for a check-up," another voice answers.

What the hell are they talking about? Who are they talking about?

"Thanks, doctor." Realization stabs me in the gut. Mac's voice. The last conscious moment I remember comes back to me. In the bedroom, coughing blood. I must be in the hospital. Oh joy, my favorite place in the world.

_Maybe you should get a permanent room here. You treat the place like a hotel._

I hear the shuffling of feet. "You're buddy is lucky you brought him in this evening. He looks like someone really did a number on him."

I do my best to lock out the sounds of their voices. I don't want to hear them. It bugs me that people talk about me like I'm not around. Yes, I know they think I'm asleep, but still; can't they talk about me in the hallway? That way I don't have to hear it. Back in my mind I search for the familiar darkness. My friend. It's not there though. All I can find is the nagging feeling that I need to wake up. A door closes. My shuffling of feet. A hand against my forehead.

"He feels a little hot to the touch. Did the doctor say anything to you about a fever?" Flack asks.

"No," Mac states. "Look, I'm going to head home. Make some calls. I don't want Danny in work for a few days. He needs to clear his mind and heal."

More footsteps. "Wait." I sense Flack moving away from me. "There's something I didn't tell you. Something I think you need to know."

"This isn't about you and Danny again is it? We already had that discussion, remember?" Mac sounds short of temper.

"Not that." I imagine Flack shaking his head. "The other day, Danny left me a note. I think…I think he needs to get some serious help, Mac. I had to rescue him from jumping off a building." Betrayal. "He's not dealing well with Aiden's murder. Is there anyway he can get a leave of absence from work?"

I feel the cold growing inside me. How can he do this to me? The whole incident was a moment of weakness. Mac will never be happy with me now. He'll never look at me the way he once did. Maybe I'll even lose my job. No, Mac won't fire me for that. He can't. He accepts my feelings for Flack. He must understand that I was not in my right mind.

There's silence. Part of me wants to open my eyes and see the look on his face. I don't do it. He finally replies.

"I'll see what I can do. The lab may be able to compensate for his not being there. Teams from day- and swing shift can take his place." I hear the door open. "I'm not making any promises, though, Flack. So don't get your hopes up."

"I won't." He already sounds hopeful.

The door closes. Footsteps tell me that Flack is once again by my side. He moves something, scraping it across the floor. Must be the chair that's always there. Is he going to sit and watch me until I wake up? Doesn't he realize that that is very uncomfortable? I open my eyes. He has his back to me. I can't tell what he's doing.

"Do you just tell Mac every thing?" I say, my voice sounding tired.

He jumps and whirls around. "Danny," he exclaims. "You're awake."

"Don't avoid my question. I heard you telling him about the roof."

He frowns. "Mac is not only your boss, he's your friend. He cares for you. Danny, you need time away from work. Things aren't right in your life. You can't just try killing yourself one day and act normal the next."

"My life, I do what I want," I mutter in response.

"Danny," Flack says my name with an edge to his voice. He's all serious now. "I do not want you getting hurt. If anything, just get an evaluation. That's why they have company psychologists."

"If I wanted one I would get one."

He squints at me. "What happened to you, Danny? Who hurt you?"

"I can go, right? That's what I heard the doctor say." I struggle to sit up. My ribs protest but I don't care. The pain is the only thing standing between me and the outside world. I loath hospitals. They smell like sterile death. The walls are too white reminding me of asylums.

"Now you're ignoring me," Flack remarks.

I'm sitting in the bed now, my legs hanging over the edge. "Where are my clothes?" The hospital air is chilly. I'm wearing only my boxers. At least it's better than having to wear that annoying hospital gown. My ribs are wrapped in a white bandage confirming my suspicions that they had been broken.

"Stop ignoring my questions. I want to know what's going on."

I sigh. "Can we please just go home? I don't want to be here anymore. We can talk about it at home. Please, Flack," I plead.

"Fine," he says giving in. "But you're on bed rest for the next few hours. Doctor's orders."

As we check-out and leave the hospital Flack fills me in on things. I had been coughing blood, only a little. At first the doctor feared that one of my broken ribs had punctured a lung. Nope, I got lucky there. The beating I took caused a small tear, almost like a tiny ulcer, in my stomach. According to the doctor it's not life threatening and should heal within a week or two, provided I take my medication. More pills.

I ignore Flack as he drones on while driving me back my apartment. The fear begins building inside. I remember every little thing that happened there. The feel of the gun. The voice of the man. Waking up afraid of my own home.

"Flack, I don't want to go home."

We're stopped at a red light. He gives me a puzzled look. "Did you not just complain at the hospital that that is where you wanted to go?"

"Not my place. Take me home with you."

He mulls it over for a second before assuring me that he'll take me back to his place. The relief wraps me comfortably in its cocoon. My medication must have a sleep-side affect because I lose track of time. One minute we're sitting at the red light, the next, Flack is shaking me gently.

"Come on, Danny-boy; let's get you up to bed. It's more comfortable than sleeping in this car. Trust me."

I let him lead me to his apartment in my half awake state. Inside I walk like a drunk to the bedroom where I fall into bed. The bed is so soft. So comforting. My body aches with a low pain. The medication must be working. I listen with my eyes closed as Flack moves about the apartment. He turns off the light in the kitchen and finally enters the bedroom.

He sighs in disgust. "You could have taken those dirty clothes before getting into bed. They've got blood and who knows what else on them. Their nasty."

"You take them off," I mumble almost incoherently. "I'm too tired."

"Are you awake enough to tell me what happened to you?" The bed gives under his weight.

"No," I lie.

I don't want to tell him what happened. Part of me does. The other part knows that he'll run to Mac. That's why I won't say anything. And maybe, just maybe, if I don't talk about it, it'll go away. Wipe the slate clean. Remove the memory. But still, I'll be asking the same damn question. Why me?


	6. On the Job

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Medium Slash. Explicit Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Six: On The Job**

_A week later…_

I slip my cell phone into my pocket and close the locker door. Finally, I'm back at work. My body is healing. My mind is getting there. The past week was like hell. Mac got the go ahead to give me the time off. What a bore. May I never have to watch that many episodes of "Judge Judy" again.

Feeling better than I have in some time I step out into the hall. The familiar noises of the lab welcome me. I feel like I've come home. Mac has me processing evidence for the first half of the day. After lunch he'll take me with him on his case. I know he's doing it to keep an eye on me. On my health; mental and physical. That's okay with me. I want to find the normalcy in life. Things have to return to normal. I'm ready to move on. I've grieved for Aiden, and for the most part, I'm passed my attack.

Lindsay greets me outside the Trace Lab. She smiles one of her mega-watt smiles. "Danny, I'm so glad to see you back. The lab just isn't the same without you."

I give her an honest smile. "It's good to be back. Oddly enough, I missed this place. I missed the creepy new coroner and even having Mac yelling at me."

She laughs softly. "Well, you know what they say about the heart growing fonder."

"That I do."

Hawkes walks up to us, placing a hand on Lindsay's shoulder. "Sorry, Danny, but I need her. We have new evidence in the case we're working. It's nice to have you back."

"Thanks," I reply.

Lindsay gives me a hug on impulse before following after the former coroner. Hawkes never used to leave the lab if he could help it. Now he spends more time out in the field than the rest of us. I shake my head at the irony of life as I enter the room to start my work.

First on my list is testing varying packets of cocaine to see what their levels of purity are. This takes about an hour to do. All the packets have a ninety percent purity rating. They weren't cut with anything else. This might just sway the case in Mac's direction. Pure cocaine can be deadly. I put the results in a manila case folder and pick up the next project.

A kitchen knife from Lindsay and Hawkes' case. To even an untrained eye the blade is covered in blood. I test it anyway. The DNA will have already been run. They'll want fingerprints and anything else that I can possibly find. I set about to dust the handle for prints when I notice that it's loose. I manage to pry the knife a little farther out of the handle. To my surprise I find more blood and a single small fiber trapped in it. I pick up my tweezers to pull it free.

The door swings open. "Hello, Messer."

"What can I do for you Stella?" I ask in a neutral voice. Maybe if I'm nice to her she'll be nice to me. I pluck the fiber while I wait for her to answer me. I slip it into a clear bag.

"Have you tested my green substance yet?"

"No, but I can do it next."

"Why didn't you start with it?" She asks with a bit of anger in her voice.

I look at her. "Stella, what the hell is your problem lately? What did I do to deserve your wrath?"

She walks up to me. "Like you don't know," she nearly yells.

"If I knew I wouldn't be asking." The anger in me is dying to be released. I can feel it clawing at its cage.

"It was always you and Aiden. Every day. Aiden, Aiden, Aiden. I thought that when she got fired things would change. No, of course not, what a fool I was to believe that. You still talked to her. Still saw her. She was getting on my nerves. I wanted her gone," she explains.

"Stella-"

"I never killed her. I would never want her to have died. Part of me feels responsible for her death. Like I had a hand in it when I didn't," she sobs. I can tell she's holding back tears. "When Lindsay transferred in I was a bit worried. But the two of you hated each other. Something that worked for me. Until Aiden died. Next thing I know you two are the best of friends." She takes a deep breath before continuing on. "When I found out about you and Flack, it was just too much. I want you to notice me. That's all."

Confusion takes over the anger. "Notice you? I always notice you, Stella. Who wouldn't?"

"But you don't notice me the way I want you to." All the anger has left her.

Her words sink in bringing with them a realization. I place a re-assuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry that I don't feel that way. It doesn't matter though. You don't really like me that way either."

"What are you talking about? Of course I do," she defends.

I smile. "It's Mac that you like and you're trying to hide it. Being the professional that you are you see office romance as something sinful. Especially with your boss. I got news for you, Stella; Mac likes you."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "No he doesn't."

I sigh with slight frustration. "Oh come on, why do you think I was always teamed with Aiden? Mac wanted to be near you. To spend time with you. For a smart lady you're blind about how people feel."

"I...uh" She lets her gaze fall to the floor while blush of embarrassment washes over her cheeks.

I chuckle. "What a relief. I'm glad that is what the problem was. For a while there I feared you would skin me alive."

"Oh, Danny, I'm so sorry," she apologizes. "This is my all fault."

"Just promise me that you'll be nicer to me now. And that you will set your sights on Mac."

She hugs me as a reply. The last few weeks have been awful. Now things are finally starting to look up. I'm afraid though. Will they continue to get better or will they get worse again? Like they say the calm before the storm. Things have been great between Flack and me. I haven't told him about that night and I know that it bugs him. Deep down inside I'm hoping it will all just disappear. I want to forget it. To make myself believe that it never happened.

The door to the lab opens. Mac clears his throat. "Stella, will you excuse us?"

"Sure, I have some things to deal with." She quickly departs.

Mac makes sure the door closes behind her. I feel like a bomb is about to be dropped. "Danny, we need to talk."

"What's up, Mac?" I sound calm. Meanwhile my heart is barely beating.

"A call came in reporting shots fired. The cops responded to the scene. When they found blood they called me, knowing that I would be the one to take the case," he explains.

I feel cold. I don't want to hear the words Mac is going to tell me. Best to do it like ripping off a band-aid. "Don't dink me around, Mac."

"Danny, I don't know how to tell you this." I can hear the emotion in his voice.

"It's Flack isn't it? That's why the cops called specifically for you. Please just tell me that he's okay."

"I'm sorry, Danny. I can't tell you that. As of right now Flack is a missing person."


	7. Youngblood

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Medium Slash. Explicit Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Seven: Youngblood**

Flying through red lights with siren blaring doesn't feel fast enough. We'll never reach Flack's place. We're already too late. I hope that Flack is nothing more than a missing person. Mac breezes through another red light. Someone cuts in front of him and he lays on the horn. How stupid can people be? The sound of the siren means get the fuck out of the way.

I let the expertise of Mac's driving through traffic distract me. He weaves between cars without a second thought. In what is a matter of minutes, but feels like hours, we reach Flack's apartment building. Cop cars crowd the street outside. Of course, one of their own is missing and possibly hurt. This is not something that will be taken lightly. Doing my best to keep calm I follow behind Mac. He's in charge, I have to remember that. He only let me along because of my relationship with Flack. Just as easily he can send me back to the lab. Ban me from the case altogether.

The mass swarm of cops part as Mac and I enter Flack's apartment. "I want everyone out. All of you," he instructs. "Any evidence is extremely valuable and I don't want you messing up my crime scene. Messer and I will take things from here."

I watch as the cops reluctantly leave the apartment. Mac closes the door behind them. The whole is suddenly taken over by silence. It's nerve-wracking. I place the silver kit on the floor and look around. The place, so familiar, feels like another country. Nothing appears right to me here. The décor and belongings scream Flack's name. He's not here to joke about the job or rant about how stupid some people can be. I take a deep breath.

"You stay right here, Messer, you understand me?" Mac commands. There's fire in his eyes.

"I understand, Mac."

He walks pass me with steps full of trepidation. I know what he's doing. I'm not dumb. He's giving the apartment a quick going over to make sure things aren't too bad. If there's a large puddle of blood he'll send me away. He won't want me to see it and get upset. I should even be here now. The silence of the apartment makes me shiver. A hint of copper-smell in the air brings back memories. I lost Aiden. There was no saving her. Savagely murdered in her own place. She should have been safe. Now Flack could be gone.

_Maybe you shouldn't get close to people. Everyone you care for dies, Danny-boy. Set them free. Let them live happily instead of dying from your love._

"Alright, Danny," Mac says upon returning. "Nothing here appears to be out of place."

"Except that Flack is missing," I interrupt.

"Aside from that," Mac retorts a bit testy. "I need you to look around. You know the place better than I do. When it comes to evidence I need you to treat it like any ordinary crime scene. Don't think of Flack as the victim. Or Aiden. Don't even let them cross your mind."

"Alright," I reply shortly.

I step out of the entrance into the actual apartment. Nothing looks disturbed. A few unwashed dishes still sit in the sink from when we had dinner two nights ago. I smile at the memory of us cooking together. Mac can't read my thoughts so I happily think of Flack. This place is full of memories of him. It's his home, after all. Carefully I walk to the bathroom and bedroom. The bedroom is clean and orderly. Even the bed is made. I stand in the entrance to the bathroom. Nothing is out of place.

"So far everything looks normal," I mention as I walk pass Mac to the living room.

A TV Guide sits on the otherwise empty coffee table. The remote rests on the arm of the couch. I run my flashlight over the rest of the room. Didn't Mac say that they found blood? I enter the living room to make my way to the second bedroom that Flack used as sort of an office. My shin bangs against the coffee table.

"Shit!"

"What?" Mac asks as he comes up behind me.

"I just whacked my shin on the coffee table." I bend over to rub the pain away.

"One would think you'd know better."

I glare at him. "The table's been moved."

My flashlight rests on the indentation in the carpet. Something catches my eye. A little red-brown spot on the carpet. I bend down for a closer look. To my eye it looks like blood. Mac will have me test it to confirm but having seen blood so many times over the years I've learned to tell. Slowly I trail the beam of light up the leg of the table. Though the wood is of medium-darkness I can clearly make out the droplets of blood.

"What have you got?"

"Blood, but you knew that already," I comment. The edge of the table has a splash of more blood than the leg.

"More?"

I look up at him. "More? What the hell do you mean by that?"

He points to the window. "If you had finished checking out the room you would have noticed the blood on the windowsill. That's what the officers' saw."

"The windowsill?" I echo.

Mac nods. I return to the entranceway where I left my kit and remove a special piece of orange plastic. Fixing it to my flashlight I return to the living room. Mac steps aside, content to let me work the room. He wants me to feel like I'm helping. Feeling useful will keep the worry away. He also wants to test me; to see if I'm well enough to be back in the field. Finding my blood spot under the table I slowly walk toward the windowsill.

"Gravitational droplets," I tell Mac as I follow the trail.

"Coming from, or going away from the windowsill?"

"Away. He bumped the table after the wound was caused."

The small pool of blood looks out of place on the dust free whiteness of the windowsill. A small potted plant sits unmoved. I concentrate on the blood. The puddle is about the size of a cup bottom. Still on the fresh side.

I turn back to Mac. "Didn't they get reports of gunfire?"

Mac frowns. "Yes. I, however, have seen no evidence of a gun being fired. There are no bullet holes in the walls."

"And the amount of blood tells us that Flack was not shot," I finish.

"If he wasn't shot than what happened?"

I smile to myself as Mac continues to test me. He's waiting for me to slip up. I swallow my worry and study the blood again. "Perhaps it's a knife wound. The amount of blood would suggest that Flack was cut. The attacker wants him alive or there would be more blood. He would have made the cut fatal."

"There's no blood between the coffee table and the door, though," Mac points out.

I chew my lip. "If Flack was in trouble he'd make sure to leave evidence behind. He knows how valuable it is."

"Maybe his attacker does too. Maybe he covered the wound or forced Flack to cover it."

"It's a possibility. Whatever happened here, Flack left alive. There's no doubt about that," I state with relief.

Mac looks around. "I'm going to go see if I can find the first officer on the scene. You go over the place again. Don't miss a thing," he orders.

"Of course not, Mac."

He leaves me standing in the living room. I close my eyes and relax. The tension in my muscles eases. My breathing returns to normal. Having Mac study your every move can be nerve-wracking. He probably walked into this room and noticed every little detail. He tested me to see if I would too. I know I passed. I rub a hand over my eyes. My body is filled with an odd comfort. There's blood, yes, but not enough to say that Flack is dead. It's not like Aiden. He's alive. He has to be. Why didn't he leave me a sign? Why?

In answer to my silent question my phone rings. The ring-tone sends chills down my spine. I feel likeDeath is calling. With shaking hands I look at the caller-ID. It flashes Aiden's number.


	8. Til Death Do We Part

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Medium Slash. Explicit Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Eight: Til Death Do We Part**

"Hello?" My voice comes out in a near whisper.

"Danny? Danny, can you hear me?"

I pull the phone from my ear to check the number again. It still says Aiden is the one calling. "Flack, are you okay," I say into the phone. My heart races at the sound of his voice.

"They did it, Danny. They killed Aiden," he says.

"Are you okay?" I nearly shout. Aiden is gone. I failed her. I can't fail Flack too.

"They want to kill me now. Danny-"

The phone goes dead as the connection is broken. I look at the phone willing it to ring again. It just stares back at me, silent. Desperation begins to take over and drop the phone. In a fit I hit the wall. He's alive for now. How do I find him? Is there any way to save him? I can't let them take him from me. They've already taken Aiden. I don't even know who they are.

"Daniel?" Mac enters the apartment again. He must be done with his interview.

"He called," I say. "Flack called."

"Then he's still alive."

I shake my head. "He said they're going to kill him. Something about them being the same ones who killed Aiden. Mac, we have to find him. Before it's too late."

He points at my cell phone lying on the floor. "Take it back to the lab and see if the can trace the call. Assuming that he called from a cell phone too. That will at least give us the nearest tower."

Despite my despair I smile. "He did call on a cell phone. He's trying to make it easier for us to find him. Bless his work with us. He's learned a lot."

Mac starts packing up his kit. He tells me to get ready to leave. The crime scene will be processed by Stella. When we enter the hallway I see that most of the officers have left. Mac makes sure to keep one of them posted at the scene. I start feeling antsy as we hop into the SUV and start our way back to the lab. They entire ride there I hold my cell phone in my hand. I want it to ring so badly. I want to hear that Flack is still alive. We have to get to him in time. We just have to.

We walk into the lab. Mac grabs me by the wrist. "Take your information to the proper person. I will not have you searching for that tower yourself. When you get the information that you need you come back here and wait for me. You got it?"

I nod. I take off down the hallway toward one of the lab technicians. He's known to most of us as the resident computer nerd. Tracking calls, tracing IP addresses, and other computer related detecting are his specialty. I bring him the phone and give him the information that he needs. It takes him ten minutes to find the cell tower. Even though the information is right there on the screen I still don't believe it.

Mac is waiting for me in the reception area. I'm surprised to see him. Didn't he tell me to wait for him? I mentally shrug.

"I take it we have something?"

"Yes, the tower that his phone connected to places him within a five block radius," I say.

"Alright, I've got the cops pulling together they're SWAT team. We may need them. What I need from you is to stay here."

I stare at him in disbelief. "You want me to stay here? Mac, come on, you can't do that." I sound like a whiny child and I don't care.

He places his hands on my shoulders and looks directly into my eyes. "Messer, you are staying here. Not only is it company regulation that you be off a case with personal interest but I fear that you're a loose cannon. You're staying here."

I know by the sound of his voice that there is no arguing with him. He tells me that things will be fine. Stella found something in the apartment that we missed. Something that may just give them the clue they need to locate Flack. I watch him leave. I can't help feeling like a dog left behind at the house while his master enjoys the outside world. I turn from the reception area. Now would be a good time to occupy my mind. Perhaps I'll lose myself in piles of evidence that need to be processed. There has to be a way to make time fly.

Twenty minutes pass between the time that Mac leaves and the time that the reception screams. Not being that far away I turn on my heel to see what her problem is. The lab is mostly empty at this time of the day. Everyone needs to take a lunch break. I enter cautiously into the reception area. The young lady is still seated behind her desk. Her eyes hold fast their gaze on two people who weren't there twenty minutes ago.

One of them is Flack. Standing behind him is non-other than Sonny Sassone. Parts of the puzzle start falling into place. There are still missing pieces though. Why would Sonny kill Aiden? Had she done something to him or one of his boys? I stand stock still as they both notice me. Flack has a cut above his left eye. I know that's not the wound that left the blood in his apartment. It's not deep enough.

I slowly draw my gun. "Let him go, Sonny. You don't want to do this here."

He smiles. "Messer, it's been a while. How's your family?" I hate how he acts like nothing is wrong.

"Better than your family is going to be when they find out you're locked away. Or dead. Let him go."

"But that would take all the fun out if it. The thrill, Messer, you have to remember the thrill."

A side door opens. Lindsay and Hawkes walk in surprising Sonny. He levels his gun at them. They stop dead in their tracks. For a split second he's occupied by their entrance. That split second would have been enough to end it. I could have shot him. If only he didn't play the game so well. He knows that positioning Flack right where he is puts him in the direct line of fire. I can't shoot Sonny without shooting Flack. I curse him.

"Looks like things are going to start getting interesting," Sonny says. The sound of his voice lets me know that he's enjoying this.

"The longer you wait, Sonny, the more people are going to return. Let him go and end this."

He taps the barrel of his gun on Flack. He's thinking things out. I can see it in his eyes. There's no worry in them. They're filled with amusement and he's probably thinking of the best way to get what he wants. He'll want to hurt Flack in front of me. He'll also want to get away. Too bad for him that there's no way he's going out alive. A sob to my left grabs my attention for a brief moment. The receptionist is hiding under her desk, out of the line of fire. One less innocent civilian to worry about.

"Alright," Sonny finally says. "I'll let him go." Flack relaxes a little. "However, the officer has to walk backwards toward you. I want him to see me, not the length he has until he reaches safety."

He spins Flack around to face him and gives him a shove in my direction. Flack takes two steps back. His wrists are bound with what look like zip-ties. I see an angry slash on the palm of one of his hands. That explains the blood at the apartment. Flack takes another step back. And than another. He's only five feet away. Almost within reach. Still in my line of fire.

Sonny starts laughing which puts my nerves on end. We've all played into his trap, I realize. He raises his gun. I hear the echo and see the flash. Flack stumbles back a step before falling to his knees. Another gun goes off. Sonny crumbles to the floor. My eyes register on Hawkes. He's calling for help. His gun trained on Sonny's unmoving form. Lindsay stands slightly behind him.

Flack falls to his side with a grunt of pain. The blood roots me to the floor. I can't move. Lindsay makes a beeline for Flack to check if he's okay. She kneels beside him and applies pressure to the wound. Hawkes walks over to join her, only his eyes are trained on me.

"Danny." He points at me.

Confused I look down at my shirt. I don't even feel the fire. I just see the red before my body goes into shock and I black out.


	9. Tanglewood

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Medium Slash. Explicit Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Tanglewood**

_Few hours later…_

I'm sitting in the hospital waiting for Mac to get here. I know that he'll have loads of questions to ask me. I sigh as pace the halls of the hospital. The inside of the building is all too familiar. In roughly two months I've seen more of the inside of this hospital than I did when I was a kid. I feel I should know all the doctors and nurses by their first names. Mac comes waltzing down the hall with an air of importance mixed with a pinch of anger. Hawkes and Stella follow behind him a few steps. The last time I saw Lindsay was at the lab, after I had regained consciousness. She made herself non-existent when the ambulance showed up.

"What happen, Messer?" Those are the first words out of Mac's mouth. He doesn't sound pleased at all.

"You don't even ask if I'm okay or how Flack is doing, you just head straight into the action?" My voice is surprisingly raspy.

"I told you to stay at the lab to keep you out of trouble and somehow you end up here. I want an explanation. Now."

Stella and Hawkes stand uncomfortably behind him. I shake my head in disbelief. Why am I shocked that Mac is all business? He's always that way. Sympathy stands firmly in second place. Best to give him what he wants.

"Sonny Sassone showed up at the lab with Detective Flack. He had Flack handcuffed and was holding him hostage with a gun. Hawkes and Lindsay walked in on the standoff which surprised Sonny." Mac listens intently. "However he didn't falter once. When he turned to them he made sure to keep Flack well within my range of fire. Things progressed. Sonny finally decided to let Flack go. He made him walk backwards toward me. This again kept Flack in my line. Being the twisted fuck that he is Sonny shot Flack and Hawkes shot Sonny," I finish.

There are still so many questions waiting to be asked. Mac wants to ask them. I can tell. But he wants to ask them in private. There are specific things that he wants to know. I close my eyes. Stella takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"How are you feeling?" She asks.

I lift up the end of my shirt to show her the white bandaging above my hip. "I caught the bullet that went through Flack. Went in about half an inch."

Hawkes smiles. "You have the worst luck with getting shot."

"I didn't get shot the first time. The bullet grazed me."

"How is Flack?" Stella questions.

I sit in one of the plastic chairs. "The bullet was a through-and-through. He was lucky that it missed all his vital organs. The doctors say that there's a good chance he'll recover fully. He did lose a lot of blood and there is a slight risk of internal bleeding."

"He'll be fine," Stella soothes as she sits beside me.

Mac looks at me. "Get up, Danny. I need to talk to you in private."

I climb from the chair to follow after him. I feel a bit of a burning sensation in my side. I thought having a bullet graze my side was bad enough. Feeling it tear through the flesh like a hot poker is nearly unbearable. I can't imagine the pain Flack is going through. Lying there in that damn hospital bed because someone from my past felt the need to torture me. Following after Mac puts a flutter in my chest. It's not a good feeling. I miss the way Flack makes me feel inside. Waking up in the morning with him next to me. Being surrounded by everything that his purely him. I wish I could whisk him away from this place. He'd heal better in my hands.

We reach a quiet section of the hospital and Mac turns toward me. "Danny, why was Sonny Sassone at the lab today?"

Have we not gone over this before? "I told you, Mac."

"Lindsay called me before I got here. She ran the bullets from his gun through the database. She pulled up quite a few records, some of which I found to be very interesting. Would you like to know what they were?" He asks. The tone of his voice and his posture tell me that I need to be careful. I'm always walking on eggshells around Mac.

"Yes," I say shortly. The fewer words the better.

"First my eye caught the robbery-turned-murder that you were involved in. The same one that had Flack conveniently occupied. He never saw the perp that you claimed shot you. Next the bullet was matched to the same one used to kill Aiden. You were there too," he remarked. "Now I leave you behind at the lab and Sonny just happens to show up. I want an explanation, Messer."

My jaw drops open. My own boss is accusing me. "How can you seriously consider that I would have a hand in murdering Aiden? She was my best friend. And I would never dream of harming Flack. He means too much to me," I protest.

"When I hired you, you told me that you stayed out of the Tanglewood Boys. Sonny seems to be following you around lately. Why?"

I shrug. "I really don't know, Mac. You have to believe me."

I can't believe that my boss thinks I'm guilty of murder. In all the years that I've known Mac Taylor he has never questioned me like this before. We've had our differences. But who doesn't? It's a stab at our friendship, and trust in each other, to hear the things on his mind. How can he think so poorly of me all of a sudden? I bite my tongue to keep from saying something that I'll regret.

"Daniel, you have to admit, you have been acting strange a lot within the last month or so. I don't know if it's because you are having problems with your relationship or something else. What I do know is that Sonny has not been a problem for almost a year and half. Why would he start attacking people connected to you without motivation?" He asks. He keeps his hand clasped together.

I shake my head. "I really don't know what to say to that. I can't believe that you think so low of me." I throw my hands up in disgust and turn to walk away.

"I'm not done with you, Messer," Mac calls after me.

I look over my shoulder. "Fuck you, Mac."

With anger, confusion, and disbelief I storm away from my boss and former friend. Hawkes and Stella act as though they saw nothing. As though nothing transpired. I turn the corner to look for a doctor. Before I leave I want to make sure that Flack is okay. The third doctor I question gives me the answers that I'm looking for. His condition is stable. The doctor offers me a visit with Flack but I refuse the gesture of kindness. I don't want to see him in a frail condition. I want to hold the image of him as a fit cop hunting down the bad guys. With my keys in hand I hop into my ride to head toward my next destination. I would have stayed with Flack until he woke up but not with Mac's accusations dancing in my face.

The drive isn't as long as figure it will be. I climb out of my car and close the door quietly behind me. The sounds of the city echo in my ears and in my mind. The unexpected shrill cry of a falcon makes me jump. With a heavy heart I follow a paved path that's being slowly overtaken by grass. All around me various sizes of stone mark little memorials.

I stop in front of a low-to-the-ground stone polished to shine its brightest. A bouquet of roses and lilies lies on top of it. I brush them aside ever so slightly to peer at the name. I sit on the grass. We all live a great life with many accomplishments. We touch lives whether we know it or not. And all we get to show for it is a stone with our name. A simple marker is all that is left for us. I place a hand on the cool stone.

"I'm sorry, Aiden. I couldn't stand to attend your funeral. There were too many memories. There still is. My visit is over do and I'm sorry for that too." My fingers brush the soft petals of a red rose. "Someone has been out to see you. At least you haven't been alone. Wish I had thought to bring you something."

The sun plays a game of hide-and-seek with the clouds. The shadow caused by the passing cloud gives me a chill. My eyes shift from the headstone to the blue sky as the sun comes out of hiding. The warmth washes over me with a lack of comfort. There's no holding the pain inside. When I look back at the small polished memorial it's through tear filled eyes.

"I wish you were here right now, Aiden," I sob. "I need someone to talk to. Life has gone so wrong since your death. The day you were taken from me I was going to tell you some happy news. Flack and I are together. I should be happy." The sun disappears behind another cloud. "Now he's lying in a hospital bed because someone from my past has an itchy trigger finger. Mac thinks I'm responsible for it, and that I killed you too."

All the emotions that have been stewing from the last few days finally boil over. I slam my open palm on the cold lifeless stone. "Why the hell did you have to leave? I need you here. I need someone to help me make sense of this fucking situation. How could you leave me?" I yell. "How could you just leave me?" I whisper as I bury my head in my hands.


	10. Stuck On You

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Medium Slash. Explicit Violence. Angst. Language.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Stuck On You**

"What are you doing here, Danny?" A voice from behind asks.

I turn slowly to gaze upon the source of the voice. "Aiden?" I whisper in disbelief.

She stands there, looking down upon me. Her hair hangs loosely around her shoulders, questions shine in her eyes like diamonds in the sky. She looks like she stepped out of the lab for a minute to catch some fresh air.

"I asked you a question, Danny-boy," she smiles. Her smile is full of sadness.

"I came to see you, Aiden. I…I wanted to see you again," I choke out. "How…"

She laughs as she kneels down beside me. Her eyes study me the same way she studies a crime scene. "Danny, why are you here?"

"I told you…"

She shakes her head, the smile leaving her face. "Don't come here, Danny."

I frown. "What…I miss you. This doesn't make sense to me."

"You can't come here." She stands and turns to leave. "I don't want to see you here again, Danny. You're needed somewhere else."

I watch as she walks away. Her message makes no sense to me. Why doesn't she want to see me anymore? We're best friends. We always spend time together. Even though I feel like running after her I don't move. What is the point? When Aiden makes up her mind it's hard to change it back. Instead I just close my eyes to hide the pain. To bid the pain to leave me. My own friend wants me to leave her alone. She doesn't want me around. How can she leave me?

A hand grasps my shoulder and gently shakes me. "Daniel," someone called my name. The shaking gets a bit rougher. "Daniel, open your eyes."

I mumble something incoherently. Probably telling the person to leave me. To let me stew in my own misery. The hand doesn't move from my shoulder and the shaking gets more insistent. After a few more ignored shakes the hand starts patting my cheek. The voice jumps from worried to angered and back again. Another shake. Another cheek pat. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. Why can't they just leave me alone? Mumbled voices hold a conversation that doesn't reach my ears. Footsteps are followed by someone throwing water on my face.

I cough as I inhale some of the water and it finds its way into my lungs. My eyes open to a New York night sky, the stars nearly invisible behind the glare of city lights. A hand firmly grasps mine and pulls me into a sitting position. The same person smacks me on the back to calm my coughing. It's a gesture that I've never understood.

"Breath, Daniel," one person says. I would assume it to be the person trying to help me.

"You're doing it all wrong, Mac. You need to raise his arms up." I recognize the voice as that belonging to Hawkes. "It allows more air to reach his lungs."

I shake off their hands as they try to raise my arms above my head. The coughing is already gone. Instead of saying something to them I pluck my glasses from my face to rid them of the water droplets. When I'm done I take a look around. I'm still in the cemetery. Hours have passed since the time that I arrived. Mac is crouched beside me; a look of worry mixed with confusion covers his face. Hawkes walks around to my side. There are nothing but questions in his eyes. Something about me, I'm sure.

"You shouldn't sleep in cemeteries, Danny," Mac remarks. If I'm not mistaken he's slightly amused. He stands, pulling me to my feet at the same time.

"I'm sorry, Mac. I…" What? Should I tell my boss how I cried like a baby? I out right threw a fit like a little kid whose mother won't buy them a toy. I can't show my weakness to him. "Why are you here?"

"I've come to find you. Thought you would be interested in knowing that Sonny Sassone confessed to everything," Mac says.

I stop in my tracks as the words sink in. "Impossible. I've known Sonny for longer than I wish, he would never confess to anything. And if he did, it wouldn't be to a cop."

"There is still a lot for you to learn, Danny. Most guys talk when they're on their death beds," Mac states matter-of-factly.

Death bed? Sonny Sassone is dying? I grew up with Sonny. He wanted me to join the Tanglewood Boys. Instead I decided to hang out on the good side of the tracks. He never really forgave me for that choice. Over the years we lived in the same city with some sort of peace treaty. What could I have possible done to piss him off? How can I drive someone to hate me this much? Sonny is dying and I feel only the slightest bit upset about it. He tried to ruin my life. Karma is a bitch.

"Danny, something on your mind?" Mac asks.

We've stopped walking. Hawkes goes on ahead. From the look on Mac's face I guess that he wants to talk to me privately. I sure as hell hope that he doesn't accuse me again. That's really the last thing that I need.

"Is something on my mind? I'm just thinking how weird life is." The frown on his face prompts me to explain. "I've known Sonny all my life and his dying doesn't bother me that much. Does that make me cold? Aiden became my best friend when we started working together. And…"

"You're not a cold person, Danny," Mac says placing his hand on my shoulder. "I know how close you were to Aiden, and I know that I haven't been the best friend over the last few weeks. Sonny caused you a lot of problems in your life. Always there to watch you, waiting for you to make a mistake."

"I never made a mistake," I speak up. "At least not one that would benefit Sonny."

"Unfortunately, you did," he states.

I look at him, studying him in the darkness. There is a storm of worry brewing in his eyes. "I don't understand."

"That breaking and entering that ended in murder, it was committed by Sonny's younger brother. Everything that has happened since has been his version of retaliation."

I bite my bottom lip. Did Sonny bring up everything? Mac says that he confessed but was it a detailed confession? With a slightly trembling hand I take off my glasses to rub my eyes. Mac can't know about that night. He's asked me about it a few times but I never tell him. I lie, telling him that I don't remember. I remember every damn detail like it was only yesterday. Nothing will remove that night from my mind. It's etched in stone. When I replace my glasses I notice that Mac has been watching my every move. I can tell from the way he walks after Hawkes that he knows something is on my mind but that I don't want to talk about it.

And I don't. It's going to come up at some point. Flack is going to want to know too. I can't hide it from him forever. I love him. As I follow after my boss I contemplate visiting Flack in the hospital. Not to burden him with my troubles but to let him know that I love him. And I don't care who knows.


	11. What You See Is

**Title:** Siúil A Rún

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Language. 

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: What You See Is…**

Flack stirs in the hospital bed. The thought of his waking up brings me out of my own slumber; if you can call what I experienced as slumber. Ten hours of sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair doesn't make for good sleeping. Outside the night holds strong. I know that Mac is at home; hopefully with Stella. Hawkes is most likely reading a book on some thing he actually doesn't know a thing about. According to my cell phone Lindsay has been trying to reach me.

"Danny," Flack whispers into the dark. "Danny…"

I take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "I'm right here. There's nowhere else I want to be."

He turns to look in my direction. Those beautiful blue eyes fill me with a warmth that only they can give. I give him a smile. He looks around the room, taking in all the machines and the sterile-ness of the place.

"Oh god…" he mumbles. He turns his blue eyes back to me. "Am I…"

"You're fine. You take a bullet better than anyone I know," I joke. I lift up my shirt to show off the bandage. "Must you share everything with me, though?"

Flack laughs as best he can. "You mean to tell me…"

"Yep," I interrupt. Listening to his raspy voice bothers me. I know that his throat must be dry so I pour him a glass of water. "The bullet went right through you and into me. I know that couples are supposed to share things but did you have to share getting shot with me?"

My smile is returned by his. I hand him the cool glass of water. He takes it and drinks it down. The water almost seems to revive him. The sparkle returns to his ocean blue eyes. The hope returns to my heart.

"Sorry, Danny-boy. I'm sorry…"

"Hush." I perch on the side of the bed. "We need to talk, Flack, do you think you can?"

"Shouldn't this be handled by a detective or someone else?" He nearly whispers.

I shake my head. "No, not that kind of talking. I'm sure Mac will seek that information when the sun comes up. For now, we have things to talk about. Just between us."

He turns his gaze to the ceiling. "Why do I feel that a bomb is about to be dropped? Sonny was right…"

The sound of Sonny's name nearly stops my heart. What is he talking about? "Do you mind elaborating?"

"When he showed up at my door he said that he wanted to talk about you. I recognized him but I couldn't remember who he was," he explains. "When I wouldn't let him in he threatened to tell Mac what he'd originally come to tell me. It scared me. I had to know what was there. So I let him in."

"Go on," I urge.

"I didn't want to believe what he told me. I still don't," he shakes his head. "My back was to him when I remembered who he was. By then it was too late. He attacked me. I made sure to leave evidence for you. I knew that Mac would take the case." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "Then I was at the lab. That's all I can remember."

I rub my thumb in circular motions on the back of his hand. I'm not sure if it's because I'm nervous or because I'm worried. "What did he tell you?" A feeling of fear begins to creep its way into my heart.

"About you and him…"

I let his hand slide from my grip. My discomfort drives me from my perch on the bed. I can't stop myself from pacing the room. "We were young, Flack. It was nothing. What happened in my past shouldn't affect my future."

"The past paves the way for the future," Flack muses. "Does Mac know?"

"No," I shake my head.

"You actually lied to Mac about something?"

I turn back toward him. "Lied? I didn't lie to him. He asked me if I was involved with the Tanglewood Boys. He wanted to know if I was part of a gang, Flack. Not if I had been…"

His eyes lock on mine. "So you never thought it was important that you had slept with Sonny?"

"That was years ago," I remark, pointing a finger at Flack. My anger is struggling to be let loose.

He half-heartedly waves his hand to chase away the question. "It started years ago, Danny."

"What are you talking about?" I cross my arms over my chest. A method of defense.

"He told me about that night. The one where you ended up at my house. Then to the hospital…" he trails off.

I can feel myself shaking. I can't believe that Flack knows about that night. All the details of a night I wish to forget. The images come back to me in full force. I can feel the metal of the gun barrel on my skin. I can smell Sonny's cologne. Hear his voice. Feel his hands. I fall to my knees with my eyes closed. The tears break from my eyes like flood waters breaking down a dam. I shake my head.

"He forced me. You have to believe me, Flack. I love you. The thing with Sonny ended years ago," I plead.

He reaches out to me but I don't move from the floor. "I know that, Danny," he says softly. "Why couldn't you tell me?"

"You knew and you still wanted to be with me?"

"Of course. Though I was hurt that you felt you couldn't trust me. Don't you dare apologize. I don't want to hear it. There's no need for you to say it. Just come here and tell me what's going to happen to Sonny. Please tell me that Mac is sending his ass to jail."

I stand from my spot on the floor and return to the bed. He takes my hand firmly in his. Now I have to tell him that Sonny is dead, or dying. I haven't been to see him so I don't know if he's actually gone yet. The warmth of his hand chases away the tears of my pain.

"Sonny is out of our lives for good," I whisper. "Hawkes shot him. Last I heard from Mac he was on his death bed."

Flack doesn't even try to hide his smile. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Did he at least confess to something?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" His voice is getting raspy again.

I scoot closer to him. Now it's time to tell him the whole story. "Remember back to that breaking and entering we worked together?" He nods. "The man accused of the incident was Sonny's younger brother. Lindsay has since tied him to the murder of that woman. Anyway. Sonny's brother must have told him about the way we were acting. Guess it pissed him off because he…he…" Just say it, damn it.

"Aiden." Flack says her name for me. He knows that I can't. It's still too much to deal with. Does the pain ever go away?

I nod. "He wanted to make me suffer. He's a sick bastard who gets a thrill from seeing people in pain. That's why I ran from him when I was younger. He scared me. He made me hate myself."

"From the sounds of it you don't have to worry about him anymore. Now it's just the two of us."

I lean in to kiss him. The kiss is full of hope and love. The dark cloud has cleared away and the sun is finally shining. I feel my hopes getting up. Maybe things will get back to being good. Yes, Aiden is gone but Flack is still here; and I have supportive friends. Tomorrow can only bring good things.

**Fin**


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